


𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝕺𝖋 𝕷𝖎𝖊𝖘

by cloudxviii



Category: Occultic;Nine
Genre: Nessun Dorma | None Shall Sleep, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudxviii/pseuds/cloudxviii
Summary: There once was a kingdom, a kingdom made of lies. A kingdom tainted with blood. A kingdom named Ceatha, which was corrupt as corrupt can be. When young Isla Black starts to dive into these lies, will she be corrupted as well?





	1. Chapter 1

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔫𝔢-  
Isla grunted as the needle pricked her finger. Thick, velvet blood dropped out onto the starch white paper. The man in the gray tunic took the stained paper without even a glance at Isla. Isla scoffed, rolling her eyes as she watched the man walk away. “Rude”, she thought.  
Isla wiped her small wound on her black dress without a second thought. She did this a lot, wiping things on her clothes without caring. Isla preferred to wear dark clothing, so it didn’t matter either way.  
The flap of the tent was lifted as the man came back in, a piece of parchment in his hand. “The Queen has decided that your blood is not tainted. You may leave.”  
Isla sighed in relief; she was safe. The Queen checked everyone’s blood, and Isla had been skipping her time lately. But it felt good to get it over with now.  
Isla got up and left the tent, ignoring the looks she was given as she hitched up her skirt and trudged through the streets. It had just rained, so Isla made her way around the puddles- mind you they looked amazing and she desperately wanted to jump in one, but she knew she would be in trouble with Cynthia if she did.  
As Isla neared the end of the street, she came upon her dreary house. The Black manor had been there for years, being there when Ceatha was first being built. The Black manor was somewhat of a legend in the kingdom of Ceatha. Its shutters were always closed tight, and it was rumored to be haunted. Isla knew that the rumors weren’t true, but it still bothered her when she heard someone talking about it.  
Isla opened the creaky door, shutting it gingerly. “Back so soon?” Isla squinted in the dark lighting to see Cynthia, the caretaker of the manor. Cynthia had been there ever since Isla was small, and she took care of her. Cynthia’s cheekbones were sharp, and her mouth was wide, and her lips were always pursed. The hair on Cynthia’s head was ghostly white, for she was older than most.  
Cynthia put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at Isla. “Did you really go this time? Or did you skip out again?”  
Isla rolled her eyes and lifted her finger, showing Cynthia the tiny hole in her finger. Cynthia grabbed Isla’s hand and examined it more closely, peering at it with an intense stare.  
Finally, Cynthia released Isla’s hand, having found the proof satisfactory. “Hurry up and wash up for dinner. Your parents will be in the dining room shortly.” Isla nodded, her thick brown curls falling into her face. She began to climb up to her room, small thuds being heard as her feet padded on the lush carpeting of the stairs.  
“Don’t forget to change! We are having guests tonight!” Cynthia called up from behind her. Isla grunted in reply. “Lian will be up there soon to help you with your hair!”, the caretaker called up to Isla as she rounded the corner.  
The oak door of Isla’s bedroom loomed in the dark hallway. The carvings on the door were made by Isla when she was five, and they weren’t very pretty. The carvings in the door were of axes and swords, maces, and crossbows. Isla had had an infatuation with weapons from an incredibly young age, and she still had it now. Isla pushed open the door, and she was surprised when it didn’t creak.  
“Cynthia probably had it fixed”, she thought.  
Isla put changed quickly, the length of it falling to her knees. Isla faced the mirror and started to brush her hair.  
A knock was heard from the door, and Isla turned to see Lian come into the room. Lian’s chocolate eyes widened, and she rushed over to Isla, taking the hairbrush out of her hand.  
“No, no, you let me do, me do.” Lian spoke in her thick accent. Lian resumed the task of brushing Isla’s thick hair.  
Isla always had hated her hair- it was the one thing about her that wasn’t perfect. While the other girls in Ceatha had luxurious red, brown, and blonde hair, Isla had the hair the colour of dirt. It was matted, and it took forever to brush, much less braid. But Lian knew how to tame her hair. Lian’s soft and nimble fingers seemed to work magic on her hair. That’s why Isla trusted Lian with her hair, and only Lian.  
Not long after she had started, Lian was done. Isla’s hair was now pinned up, with some soft curls framing her face. Lian stepped back to admire her work, but tutted when she saw Isla’s dress, which was black, and it seemed to suck in all the light around it. “I wouldn’t wear dress, no no no. Your momma is showing you to guest. Big guest, big.”  
Isla looked at Lian in the mirror.  
“You know who he is?”  
Lian shook her head, looking down at her boots. “No”, she whispered.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“Really? Tell me Lian, it’s good to know who he is.”  
Lian said something barely above a whisper. “What?”, said Isla.  
“Asadun Qawiun”, Lian said.  
Isla’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped opened slightly. “Him? He’s the son of one of the biggest lords in Ceatha!” Lian looked up and nodded. “Yes, he is. Yes, yes. I would be careful tonight Isla. Careful, careful.”  
Isla nodded, and heard Cynthia come into the room. “Come now little one. They await us.”


	2. Chapter 2

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔬-  
Isla followed Cynthia into the dining room, where she sat in her big wooden chair. Her parents had decorated the dining room different for the occasion, and Isla looked around. The walls were draped with purple banners, holding the Black family crest. The normally empty chimney had a blazing fire, which crackled and popped. The room had a dark glow to it, a shadow casting over the room. Isla’s eyes drifted to the table, where a spread of gourmet food and drink was laid out.  
“Ahem” Isla’s mother cleared her throat. Isla looked up at her mother, raising an eyebrow.  
“Isla dear, it is rude not to greet out guest. Say your graces to Lord Asadun.”  
Isla bowed her head as a sign of welcoming. Asadun bowed his head back, his caramel hair flopping down. Isla bit back her laughter as she watched the young lord’s hair flop back and forth. Isla took a sip of her mead in hopes of settling down.  
“Is something wrong?”, Asadun asked, his head tilting to the side, hair flopping. Isla nearly spit out her drink but regained herself at the last moment. “Nothing my liege, just enjoying your presence.”, said Isla, putting her goblet down and giving Asadun a warm smile.  
Her answer seemed to satisfy Asadun, for he turned to Isla’s mother. “So Lady Black, I’ve heard rumors about your son being granted the title of Guard Captain. Is it true, or just mere gossip?” Isla’s mom seemed grateful for the change of conversation, and even more grateful for it being about her successful son. “Please, call me Mira. And no, they aren’t rumors. My Ivar has been granted that title. He’s worked so hard for it as well.”  
Mira leaned forward and rested her hand on Asadun’s. “Personally, I think it was wise of the King to get rid of the old Captain. He caused nothing but trouble. I’m sure your father told you.” Asadun nodded, and Mira leaned back in her chair. Isla was confused. She had thought the old Captain had done fine, until now. She was about to speak up, when the oak doors of the dining room were thrown open and her father strolled in.  
“Apologies for being late”, he said, taking off his cloak and giving it to a servant. “There was some trouble with a merchant I had to sort out.”  
Asadun waved his hand. “All is well Mr. Black. I’m sure you have such big things to deal with, this is small compared to them.”  
Isla’s father chest swelled with pride as he began to put his sword down on the table. “No swords at the table.”, said Mira, her icy glare piercing and stern. Isla’s father froze, and his sword hovered above the oak table. “My love, it’s in its sheath. Its’s fine if I lay it here.” Isla’s father also jerked his head in Asadun’s direction, signifying that he was trying to impress their big guest.  
Mira’s eyes narrowed even more. “Did you stumble across the wrong pitcher of wine again? Or are you too drunk to understand I said no swords on the table?”  
Isla’s father’s face flushed scarlet, and he began to stammer for words. Mira waved over to a servant and pointed to the sword. The servant grabbed the sword from Isla’s father, carrying it away.  
“Mira”, Isla’s father hissed. “Hallway. Now.”  
Mira rose from her seat, and both of Isla’s parents stepped into the hallway. It wasn’t long before shouts and arguing were heard. Isla rolled her eyes and sunk back into her chair, and Asadun looked over.  
“I’ve heard great things about you Isla.” Isla shuddered at the way Asadun pronounced it. “It’s pronounced Ice-la, not Ees-la.”, she corrected. Asadun grinned wolfishly, his teeth glinting.  
“It’s not normal for a lady to be so…punctual.”, said Asadun, drawing closer to Isla. He put his hand on hers, leaning into her head and whispering in her ear. “I’m in the market for a wife. You would be a very good one, no?”  
Isla stood up, her chair making a scraping noise as it was pushed backwards. “I think I’m going to leave now. Enjoy the rest of your meal Lord Asadun.” Isla curtsied and turned around to leave, but she was turned back around harshly by Asadun. “I am not to be disrespected my Lady”, the young lord said, pinching her chin between his thumb and pointer finger.  
Isla forced herself away, and tried to run, but Asadun held on to her hand. He pulled her back and clamped a hand over her mouth. Isla let out muffled scream but her parents in the hall couldn’t hear her, they were too busy arguing. Finally, Isla regained her common sense. She bit down on Asadun’s hand, hard. Asadun shrieked, and let Isla go.  
Isla scrambled to the door, with Asadun lunging after her. “Get back here you little rat-”  
Asadun saw that Isla had thrown open the doors and tried to stop himself, but it was too late. He crashed onto the floor behind Isla. Isla ran to her father, clutching him tightly.  
“What in god’s name are you doing?”, Mira yelled. She stomped towards Asadun, grabbing him by the collar with both hands. “You terrible person! Get out! Now!” Mira threw Asadun towards the door, and he rushed outside, slamming the door behind him. Mira wheeled to face Isla. “Are you alright?”, she asked, worry in her eyes.  
Isla nodded, tears gleaming in her eyes. The black family went upstairs, where they spent the rest of the night comforting Isla. In that moment, all was peaceful. In that moment there is.


End file.
